


Paint me like one of your French girls

by forgetful01



Category: Homestuck
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-13
Updated: 2012-04-13
Packaged: 2017-11-03 13:31:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 634
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/381853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/forgetful01/pseuds/forgetful01
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Simple drabble, around 600 words.</p><p>This was inspired by Novatoasts brilliant message</p><p>    The other day I was thinking about what a shame it is that Gamzee couldn’t be around the others on the meteor, because Gamzee/Dave bodypainting dicks on each other would be perfect. Instead the dick drawings go to Karkat.</p><p>This was going to be so serious too hah oh well.</p><p>Enjoy</p>
            </blockquote>





	Paint me like one of your French girls

It was a curious thing, being sprawled on your stomach spread eagle over the blankets, arms supporting your chin as you lay as bare as a person could be. You weren’t sure why you picked this of all experiments to try, but the idea was certainly interesting. Makara was the one to suggest it as usual; he definitely spent his spare time dreaming up more things for the two of you to try. Since he had emerged from hiding on the meteor, it could be said him and you hit it off great. If great could translate to hate fucks in the hallways and sloppy makeouts in the closets.

Your eyes were blindfolded of course, and Gamzee was somewhere to your right, probably looking you over. He spent a good deal of time in the foreplay just looking at you, watching and evaluating, worshiping your body on a level that bordered on the religious. His breath was still ragged and yours was too, fists gripping the blankets as you tried to keep from trembling. The anticipation was definitely grating on your nerves now and you couldn’t help but sigh impatiently.

“Keep your panties on Strider, I’m almost ready.”

His voice is definitely to your right, hovering somewhere around your hips, and there was no denying the pleasant warmth of his lips on your hipbone. You can feel goosebumps spreading over your skin and you swallow down a noise, keeping your head forward as instructed. You know he would stop to give another round of spanks to your sensitive plushrump and frankly, you might not have minded. But this was a first class ride, no jokes or irony, and you wanted to get the show on the road as fast as possible. There was a faint slosh of something wet and a soft clunk of metal being set on the floor. Another few seconds of silence and you only then felt the tip of something wet and cold on your inner thigh.

A gasp would have been acceptable, but no, you fuckin’ squeaked in surprise, body tensing a little. “Thanks for the warning, Giggleshit, fuck that was cold.” He only laughed and began to move the brush, spreading the greasepaint over your body as his own personal canvas.

You two had been wrestling on the bed when this started, sneaking in harsh kisses and bruising bites, and in your haste you had knocked over a can of paint. Gamzee had dismissed it at first, but as he contented himself with sucking and nipping at the underside of your jaw, you happened to get an idea. “Hey, Juggaboo-” He growled at the pet name, biting down on the spot he had captured and a shaky moan fell from you, “Ahhh, I want you to do something.” His ears perked up at that and he tenderly licked at the sore spot, waiting to hear it. Before you could stop yourself, the words came spilling out from between your lips.

“Paint me like one of your French girls.”

He paused at that, gave you a disbelieving look, before it morphed into something more primal and domineering. With a chaste kiss he breathed out a quick, “Roll over,” and they say the rest is history.

The tip of the brush trailed between your legs, abruptly bringing you back to reality and you had to stifle a noise. Neither you nor the clown had any idea you two would react this way, but you could hear the faint whimpers that were caught in the back of his throat as he forced himself to be slow and steady. It was almost the most erotic thing you had ever participated in until a distinct design the brush left could be felt and-

“Dude are you fucking drawing penises all over me?”

“Maybe.”


End file.
